


living lovely

by isometric



Category: South Park
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Hospitals, OT4 friendship but focus on K2 friendship, Terminal Illnesses, background Stendy because of who I am as a person, platonic handholding, stan and cartman are there too but only for a bit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-17
Updated: 2018-11-17
Packaged: 2019-08-25 02:26:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16652533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/isometric/pseuds/isometric
Summary: If the world won’t move for Kenny, then they’ll make it do the next best thing.(AU in which every few years, Kenny develops and dies from muscular dystrophy again.)





	living lovely

**Author's Note:**

> ~~why is platonic handholding not a tag???~~
> 
>  
> 
> title shameless stolen from Kendrick Lamar's [LOVE](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5OCdH92wGUE)
> 
> also AU in which Cartman is OOCly a good friend? LOL

Age 8 (2001)

Hospitals don’t scare Kyle anymore. He’s spent more than his fair share of time in them, has been in and out of emergency rooms. The antiseptic smell that permeates Hells Pass is a familiar one now, the unending white walls fading into the background.

He knows what it’s like to wonder whether each day would be the last. Whether it’d even be worth it to make it another day. But at the time, almost a year ago, he’d had hope.

Kenny has none now, so Kyle will give him hope.

“Where’s Stan?” Kenny wheezes from the cot. He’s been asking for Stan every day for the past week, sounding weaker each time.

 _Being a coward_ , Kyle thinks. Out loud, he says, “Looking for a cure.”

Kenny perks up at that. “Really?” He grips back Kyle’s hand for the first time in days.

“Really.” Kenny’s hand goes limp again, out of energy, so he says, “Remember those fetuses? Apparently they can become new muscles.” He doesn’t know why he’s lying like this, giving credit for Cartman’s work to Stan. Why it had to be that particular lie. “They need a lot for that, so Fatass is getting more fetuses, while Stan’s trying to convince the government to let research continue.”

Kenny doesn’t say anything to that. He coughs, quiet and dry. But his fingers curl again between Kyle’s. Kyle turns their hand over so that gravity can take over for Kenny.

“He’ll come real soon, I promise. He just wants to have the best present for you when he does.”

Kenny finally cracks a real smile. With his mouth too, not just his eyes.

Some of the Christians on his street believe in the power of speaking things into existence. Kyle thinks about his lies, the strength they give Kenny. He’ll turn them into truth, if it’s the last thing he does.

“We’re almost there. So just hold on, Kenny.”

 

 

Age 13 (2006)

One of the oddest observations Kyle makes that day is the fact that Kenny still has clear skin.

“Have you ever gotten a pimple in your life?” he asks, and when Kenny rolls his eyes, adds, “I’m serious. Are you even going through puberty?”

Kenny gives his hand a warning squeeze, a displeased pout on his lips.

“Oh poor Kenny,” Kyle drawls in response, “taken so soon from us, never had the chance to pop his own zits.” Kenny huffs indignantly. “Doomed to the eternal voice cracking of a barely pubescent boy, just missing the experience of acne— ow, Kenny, you can let go now—”

“You deserve it,” Kenny says. His voice is still hoarse from days of coughing, but Kyle wants to smile, almost does, because it means he feels strong enough to use it. Almost, because he should be getting better.

Kyle doesn’t know how this works, how to make his friend better. It’s mid-July, the hottest month of the year, and Kenny should be out camping with them now that South Park is finally warm enough to allow it. Mid-July, and the president just vetoed a bill that would expand stem cell research, citing moral boundary. Cartman’s already gone east to contest the veto, convinced stem cells hold the cure, but it still makes Kyle’s blood boil. It’s just one more thing on a long list of presidential failings, but now Kyle can feel the direct consequences, feels Kenny’s life fluttering between his hands. He’s never felt so powerless.

He can’t give Kenny his life back, but he can make Kenny laugh. He can make Kenny smile, sneak in forbidden treats, take his friend’s mind off of the bleak future. He doesn’t know how to make Kenny better, but he can make him _feel_ better. That has to count for something.

“Water,” Kenny croaks, just as Kyle hands him the cup. They probably should have stuck to ice chips, except that Kenny’s stubborn about not appearing helpless. He takes a long drink, just to show off he can. “So, that mindreader of yours—”

“Nope.”

“—where is he?”

“Still making a fool of himself.”

Kenny fake-strokes his imaginary beard. “Nothing new, I see.”

“You wanna see? I got a video of it before coming.” Normally, Stan getting embarrassed was grounds for an asskicking. But this time, Kyle can’t help the evil gleam that must surely show in his eyes. It’s Kenny, after all.

“Uh, heck yeah? Show me the source of your secondhand embarrassment.”

Kyle takes out his phone again, the new LG Chocolate Kenny had marvelled at even though its music storage is shit, and plays the recording of Stan standing outside the mall, hounding people to donate to the Muscular Dystrophy Association in Kenny’s name. Whether compelled by the kid’s charisma or moved by such an emotional story (or maybe just bullied into feeling guilty if they didn’t), the adults line up in haphazard queues to give Stan money. Kenny smiles fondly, too tired for laughs.

“I think he’s still there,” Kyle checks the timestamp for Wendy’s latest messages, “yup, still there.”

“Damn, I can’t wait for him to trick or treat in my name too.”

“No reason he can’t do both,” Kyle says, sending off a text to his super best friend. Five minutes later, Wendy’s newest update reads, _Now they’re donating candy..._ , and _Coming by later w/ loot for Ken_.

Kenny props his head onto Kyle’s shoulder. “Candy? Nice.”

“Sit properly. You’re not supposed to be moving like that.”

“Sheesh, okay, mom.” Kenny leans back against the raised cot, but not without dragging Kyle backwards with him so he can keep his human chin rest. “This summer is great.”

Kyle makes a show of inspecting the room. “Yeah?”

“Uh huh, great food, nice decor—” Kenny yawns, out of energy again. “Great air conditioning.”

Kyle rolls his eyes. None of their homes have air conditioning. South Park summers really aren’t hot enough to need it.

“Friends, too,” Kenny finishes, bashful. He snuggles into his blankets, reaching with his free hand to his face as if his hospital gown has a hood for him to pull on. But despite his embarrassed admission, he doesn’t let go of Kyle’s hand.

A part of Kyle hurts at the sight, in anticipation of the day there won’t be anything to hold on to. He quashes that feeling and ruffles the top of that messy blonde head. “Since I’m such a good friend, you may ask one favour of me,” he offers.

“Just one?”

“I got you that candy already, dude.”

“Huh? But Stan’s the one getting them? And Wendy’s the one bringing them?”

“Okay, no favours then—”

“I mean! Oh, great and wondrous Kyle, High Elf King, He Who Must Not Be Angered, wilt thou grant mine one wish?”

Kyle rolls his eyes again, but slips back into their pretend Middle English. “Tell me, fair maiden, what the beauteous princess of Kupa Keep desires.”

“Tis mine sister,” Kenny sniffs. “Wilt thou takest her as your protegé? She has numerous enemies and few allies.”

“Dude, I’m not gonna beat up the vamp kids.”

Kenny wipes away an invisible tear. “Be it so, then. Alas, that I cannot avenge her honour.” At the sight of Kyle’s face, he breaks character to snicker, before turning serious once more. “I meant it, though. Will you look after her?”

Kyle nods. “Of course. And Kevin.”

“My parents too?” Kenny asks meekly.

Something like that doesn’t need to be asked. It can’t even be considered a favour; it’s simply what Kyle owes Kenny, as a friend. He ruffles those wild blond locks again, and says, “I promise.”

 

 

Age 19 (2012)

“ _There will be another to these shores to remember me_ ,” the narrator says. “ _I will rise from the ocean like an island without bottom, come together like a stone, become an aerial, a beacon that they will not forget you_...”

Beside him, Kenny cries silently, trembling into his shoulder, as the camera dips down towards the sea. The music swells, filling the room, and even Kyle feels the emotion grip him. When the scene finally ends, Kyle turns off his computer and puts it aside, and they spend the rest of visiting hours discussing the game.

It’s a strange choice, playing a game about death when death is looming. But the game was on sale, had been praised for its beautiful graphics, exquisite soundtrack and haunting storyline, and Kenny had been looking forward to it for months. It doesn’t hurt that with the slow pace, Kenny could play without easily tiring, could have Kyle sub in without disrupting the flow. And it really was beautiful, even if it was unconventional.

“I loved it,” Kenny says, as Kyle zips up his bag and begins reaching for his coat. “Thanks for getting it.”

“I was always going to, since you vouched for it.”

“Good thing you listened, huh?” Kenny gives him a wink, and Kyle can’t help but smile back at that.

The nurse comes by soon afterwards to escort him out. Kyle gives Kenny a parting hug and heads to the lot, where Stan’s waiting, having agreed to pick him up.

“Judging from your mood, he liked it then,” Stan says. He gives the hospital one last look before backing out of the parking spot.

“Loved it, actually.” That draws a chuckle.

“Who else but Kenny McCormick would love a game in which the player dies, on his deathbed,” he says, voice wry. “What was his favourite part? Asides from all of it, of course.”

“The caves.”

“Figured.”

“He said he knew she was dead as soon as he saw the caves.”

Stan spares him a quick glance, then exits the parking lot. “Did he give a reason?”

“How did he phrase it?” Kyle scratches at his shoulder, where Kenny had cried into. “That the caves, they looked like nothing could ever grow there.”

The conversation dies off a bit after that, as Stan focuses on driving down the mountain road. With the November snow threatening to turn into a proper storm, Kyle doesn’t expect the conversation to restart again until they’re back in town. Instead, he watches the flurries fall, thinking about the future. About Kenny.

About what Kenny said, the lifeless caves where nothing would grow.

“Kyle,” Stan suddenly says, startling him, “he’s not going to get better, is he?”

“...No.” The silence stretches on for another beat. “You should go see him.”

“Before it’s too late?”

“You know he’s asking for you. Fatass is hoping to come back from Illinois soon, but I don’t think he’ll make it in time.”

“That hung up on the conference?”

“Said he’s talking drug clearance with one of the presenters. If Kenny can hold on for another week...”

Stan sighs, heavily. Kyle chances a look, notes the exhaustion on his face. The poor guy’s been working with Token on insurance and looking at experimental trials, and since Kevin’s car broke down, has been driving Kevin to and from work on top of driving people to and from Hells Pass. Even if he doesn’t visit, nobody can accuse Stan of not caring.

“I’ll go,” he finally says. He drops Kyle off and heads home, presumably to start studying to catch up on the classes he’s missed.

Kyle should be doing that too, preparing for the approaching finals once they go back to Denver, but he can’t take his mind off the situation. It keeps wandering back to those caves, the structural formulas painted phosphorescent green on the walls. How strange that he’d never thought much of them, before Kevin’s call.

And that there now can be a ‘before Kevin’s call.’

They had visited together the first time after the call, all three of them, after driving back to South Park for the Veteran’s Day long weekend.

Stan had run out after a few minutes, excusing himself with the need to call his dean, and Kyle had followed to check on him. And when he’d come back inside the hospital, he’d come across Cartman, kicked out of the room, muttering to himself.

“Always comes back,” he heard, “always get nervous for this one, come on, he always comes back!”

“Who always comes back?” he’d asked.

“Kenny!” Cartman had shouted, and then they really were kicked out.

Kyle tried his best to comfort him, but Cartman seemed resistant to his reassurances. They found Stan moping inside his car, and on the way back, Cartman fiddled on his phone, and announced at his stop that he was flying out the next morning to the Muscular Dystrophy Conference in Chicago, saying he’ll be back before they know it.

But a week since, Kenny keeps getting weaker, and at this rate, maybe he’ll be gone even before Stan plucks up his courage. There should be an end to grief, he thinks idly to himself. There must be some way he can end it.

Instead, another week later, they’re on the road back to UC Denver, Cartman having already gone ahead. He’d expected Stan to cry the entire way back, but it seems maturity has at last taken hold of his oldest friend. Stan sits in the passenger seat, expression stoic, keeping careful watch of road signs and turns even as he stares daydreams out the window.

After three hours of silence (and only three more to go if they’re lucky and the snow stays light), Stan speaks up for the first time in days. “I thought marine biology was it for me,” he says, voice steady and neutral.

Kyle considers and decides not to take his eyes off the road.

“I really wanted to work with whales,” Stan continues. If Kenny was still around, he’d have laughed at the understatement. Stan had interned with environmental marine groups every summer since ninth grade. Few things ranked higher than whales: his mom, Sparky, Wendy...

“But now, I think I found something more important.”

...and his friends.

Kyle knows what Stan wants to say. And in a way, he’s relieved. He was going to stay on his academic track, if it meant someone would continue taking care of Kenny in the future, or rather, would take care of Kenny’s family for him. But if Stan is willing to step up...

“That’s a good idea,” he says. Unlike Stan, he can’t keep the break out of his voice. “You can open your own practice right here in South Park. Be our first real doctor.”

“Whale doctor.”

“Better than ass doctor.”

“For Cartman’s sake, I’ll be extra sure to give him triple asses.”

They both laugh at that. The mood lightens even as the car descends back into silence. Even the snow lets up. It’s as if the spirit of Kenny is right there with them, giving them his blessing.

Eventually, Stan says, “I’ll see Karen and Kevin free of charge. And his parents too. I’ll ask Fatass to get me the money to open a family practice in town.” He sighs deeply, but it sounds more like a breath to resolve himself than anything tired.

Even with the numbness he has yet to shake, pride wells up in Kyle’s chest, like a fountain of gratitude filled to overflow.

“You’ll help me with pre-med, right?”

“Of course.” Kyle lifts one hand from the wheel to dab at his eyes. “Someone has to teach your dumb ass orgo, so you don’t blow yourself up during labs.”

“Back to labs, huh,” Stan pinpoints, sharp as always. They’ve always known each other too well. “Research?”

For a moment, Kyle can’t bring himself to answer. His promise to Kenny weighs heavy on his mind, a conversation spoken a lifetime ago over a campfire when the others fell asleep. And the thought of leaving Stan and Cartman behind, when they should be supporting each other, eats at him.

But Stan knows him too well. Picking up after him since childhood, he’s always been Kyle’s center. He says, as if unaware of Kyle’s reservations, “If you’re switching to research, Boulder’s better.”

“But—”

“I’ll come bother you every weekend, of course. And to make it up to me, I’m bringing Cartman with.”

“Dude.”

Stan laughs sheepishly at his own threat. “I just,” he starts, then sighs again. “I think we should all be together more. Now that he’s gone, I just want us to stay close, for his sake. His memory.”

Kenny had been the heart of the group, after all, even when he’d stayed behind to apprentice to the local mechanic. “Fine,” Kyle concedes.

They lapse into another silence, one that lasts for the rest of the ride. With the clear weather, they arrive back to campus in just under two hours. Kyle drops Stan off at the cafeteria before parking and making his way to see his own dean.

With his mom’s, his advisor’s, and now Stan’s approval, his heart is set. Grief like theirs must end somewhere.

That night, eating vegan pizza takeout in their tiny dorm kitchen, Stan asks him what changed his mind, then smacks him for his smartass comment when he says it’s because he can now leave Kenny’s will in Dr. Marsh’s capable hands.

“It was the caves,” he admits.

“From the game?” Stan asks, confused.

Kyle wishes he could describe it with words, that overwhelming sense of knowing that came upon him, as he’d wandered the caves. The narrator’s fever dreams, the addiction and helplessness, the drive to do _something_  even after it all. But even if he doesn’t have the words, Kenny did.

“It was what Kenny said, how nothing could ever grow there.”

Stan nods, suddenly understanding. Kenny had once jokingly accused them of telepathy; Cartman disagreed, claiming instead that their minds were conjoined. But whichever it was, Stan already knows where Kyle’s thoughts are heading.

“But there was life on the walls. Someone was there to write the formulas.”

The formulas he’s still thinking about. The structural arrangement for alcohol, the crude depiction of neurons. The blue glow that must be bioluminescent in origin.

“So I’m going to show him something can.”

 

 

Age 25 (2018)

“Please—” Kenny wheezes, “oh god, please, play that again.”

Kyle obliges him. On the screen, James Veitch reveals the scammer’s response: “PLEASE STOP EMAILING US.”

Kenny dissolves into high pitched cackles. He slaps the metal arm of the cot, once, twice, like the laughter in him is bursting out. Kyle catches the hand in his and gives the usual stern warning not to move too much lest the IVs tear out, but Kenny merely grins back.

“Don’t worry about me, mom,” Kenny says, which would be infuriating if his mood wasn’t so bubbly and infectious. “Next video please!”

“Of course, _son_ ,” Kyle retorts, but all the jab does is make the other laugh harder. “Stop thinking about the emails!” he scolds, smiling despite himself.

“I–I can’t,” Kenny chokes, “oh my god, imagine if he called the scammer ‘son’ too!”

Nothing gets done for the next twenty minutes. Just the sound of one of them laughing sets the other off, in some sort of hysterical feedback loop. Kenny has the bright idea of watching contagious laugh compilations, which Kyle really should have shot down, except that... well, why not? His cheeks and stomach regret the decision a bit, but all he has to do is look at the giggling-induced trembling of that mop of blonde hair, and he knows it’s worth it.

“Okay, I’m okay,” Kenny says, “let’s go back to your carefully curated and highly educational list of TedTalks.”

“I’m not falling for that again,” Kyle tells him. “You just wanna see if anyone’s gonna talk about mechanics.”

“Hey, that’s a respectable field! Represent, right?”

“Nope. I know you just wanna squeeze in dirty jokes.”

“Damn, saw through me again. Fine, enough about my job, let’s talk about yours. How’s Big Pharma doing?”

Kyle rolls his eyes. “ _Big Pharma_ ,” he says, affecting a mocking accent, “finally got approved for phase two.”

Kenny, if possible, lights up even more. “Dude, that’s great! Congrats!”

It really is great news, even if still a bit too early to celebrate. Kyle’s smile drops a bit. However exciting, the drug-in-development won’t help Kenny. Something in his expression must have become too obvious, though, because something promptly smacks him in the forehead.

“No sad thoughts! Sad thoughts are banned! I demand your complete attention, and I demand it now!”

“Dude, did you seriously hit me with the newspaper you _demanded_ I bring you...”

“I demand you stop being mean to me? Why are you bullying me? Nurse, Kyle is being a big fat meanie pie!”

“Telling on me? Bring it on. Nurse, Kenny’s twelve again, it’s a real miracle!”

They don’t get to rest of the Tedtalks, too caught up in their fake bickering. In fact, they’re so into the banter, having slipped back into their _Lord of the Rings_ LARPing characters, that the bang of a flung-open door makes them both jump.

“Surprise, po’ boy!” Cartman bursts in, dressed like the shadiest businessman to ever successfully con someone and get away with it.

“Fundraising go well?” Kyle snarks. But judging by that greasy smile, it really must have.

Cartman doesn’t even rise to the bait. “The MDA’s gonna have to frame my name in gold for all the donations,” he says gleefully. He tosses a pastry box at Kenny. “Weep at the taste of these macarons you’ll never be able to afford.”

Kyle grabs the box before it can bounce off the cot and opens it, revealing rows of gorgeous macarons —some with bright solid colourings, others bearing intricate floral designs, and even a couple with what seems to be fresh fruit— all lined neatly in their plastic seats. It’s uncharacteristically thoughtful, and probably quite expensive; maybe that’s why Kyle continues sniping at Cartman.

“Dude, are those for Mother’s Day? You got him Mother’s Day flowers?”

“Shut up, Kahl! It was artsy and shit, Kinny loves that crap.”

“It’s pretty, and food is food,” Kenny shrugs, picking up a watermelon-resembling macaron and biting into it. His eyes go wide. “Dude! What is this? Am I in heaven? This is so good.”

“Better be, it was like a hundred bucks, now bow down to me and my money!”

“Yes yes, O Great Tax Auditor, the Getter of Bread, the King Who Feeds the Poor—”

Kyle leaves the two to trade insults and checks his phone. Just as he thought, he didn’t get the notification for Stan’s text. The iPhone really is such crap. One of these days, he’s gonna switch to Android like he’s been threatening to.

 _Almost there, seriously, what the heck is with this traffic_ , sent thirty minutes ago.

 _I can’t believe Cartman made it before you, and he came from Texas_ , he sends back. In response, all he gets is the middle finger emoji. Kyle chuckles —with any luck, even Karen and Kevin will return from their rest back home before Stan, and then it really will be embarrassing— and slides his phone back into his jeans pocket.

Just as he does, Stan comes in through the door, dead on his feet but surprisingly alone. “Hey guys. Kenny, you okay with shitty hospital food? Wendy went to grab some.”

“Oh ho? Quick, let’s all sneak out before she comes back!”

“Stop trying to give people heart attacks.” Stan runs a hand through his increasingly disheveled hair. “Man, why was traffic so bad? Which patient is so famous everyone’s coming to visit them?”

“Me,” Kenny replies, “definitely not Radiohead playing a surprise concert in the soundproof basement.”

Stan frowns. “Why is Radiohead here?”

“Why not? Definitely not because someone copied Cartman and sent them a letter about ass cancer.”

“Poor ass white trash copycats,” Cartman mutters.

“Anyways, what’s up with you? You look like you haven’t slept yet.”

“Sleep?” Stan echoes, suddenly looking faint. “No, I’m too busy. What?”

At Kenny’s concerned side glance, Kyle quickly explains. “He just finished exams.”

The concern morphs into horror. “You drove back like that?”

“Plane then bus,” Stan says. “Wendy picked me up from the stop.”

The horror turns back to concern and some fluffy emotion Kyle can’t name. “Aww, you came straight from finals? That eager to see me?”

“More like eager to run from his grades,” Kyle says.

“Sucks to be you, still stuck in school while the rest of us are functioning adults,” Cartman mocks.

Stan takes the jabs in stride. “It’ll all be over for you hoes once I start my residency here,” he threatens. “I’m gonna give you all four asses once I get my hands on you.”

“No!” Kenny cries. “You leave my beautiful booty alone! This butt is a masterpiece, you hear?”

“Too late, I have already booked you for ass multiplication session. Dr. Marsh has only the best treatment in mind for you. Four premium asses, free of charge!”

“No! I’d rather die! At least I’ll stay young and beautiful!”

“Jokes about death, huh?” Stan nods wisely. “I understand. It must be difficult to long for _six_ asses.”

“ _Six!?_ ”

“Kinny, you incompetent gold digger,” Cartman chimes in, “now’s your chance to grovel in front of a future doctor to give you what you want. All the butts you could have!”

“Ah! Death, my old friend! Come take me now, I am not afraid!”

“No?” Kyle muses. “Even though Mephesto’s waiting for you in the afterlife? At least Stan can give you quality asses. Still doesn’t scare you?”

Kenny laughs, strong and clear. Later on, they’ll tease him for quoting such a cheesy saying, but at the moment, all Kyle can think of is how happy he looks, smiling without care, the twinkle in his eyes endlessly cheerful. His resilient friend, alive and so beautiful. Even with his terrible gauntness, he doesn’t look like death can touch him at all.

“Death is just another grand adventure,” Kenny declares. Kyle smacks him on the shoulder, but Kenny, the devious little shit, just grabs the hand to pull him into a hug. Then he somehow manages to wrangle Stan and Cartman into the hug too.

“With you guys around,” Kenny says, “how can I be afraid?”

**Author's Note:**

> ~~I just wanted some friendship, man~~   
>  ~~I just wanted friends platonically holding hands, man~~
> 
>  
> 
> so.....Kenny's long death was different: people remembered he was dead, people stayed affected by his death.  
> so......extrapolating from that.....if his friends made "life-lasting" decisions during that period, even after he dies (I don't think the show is definitive about whether his rebirth would reset that), they should be able to stick to them, right?
> 
> Some Notes:
> 
> 2006 
>   * Kyle has the LG Chocolate VX8500, released in early July, which makes for a very squeezed timeline.....but still possible I think? 
>   * the Stem Cell Research Enhancement Act (HR 810) passed by both Congress and House of Reps in 2005 was vetoed by Bush Jr in 2006, who said it "would support the taking of innocent human life in the hope of finding medical benefits for others. It crosses a moral boundary that our decent society needs to respect, so I vetoed it [...] If this bill would have become law, American taxpayers would, for the first time in our history, be compelled to fund the deliberate destruction of human embryos. And I'm not going to allow it"
> 
2012 
>   * the game is _Dear Esther_ , Kenny’s thoughts are 100% mine
>   * the Muscular Dystrophy Association HQ is in Chicago, and Cartman attends an imaginary conference there; they have real conferences, but this particular one is not
>   * the car they drive back to Denver with belongs to Stan, Kyle just has the second set of keys (why doesn’t Kyle get his own? ~~why would he when he’s got Stan~~ )
>   * uhhhhhh idk anything about either UC Denver or UC Boulder except that the former has a med school and a good business program (Kyle and Cartman’s reasons respectively, Stan tagged along for Kyle) while the latter is great in science and research I think???
>   * and on that note UC Denver doesn’t have a marine bio _program_ , that’s just Stan’s projected career
>   * ~~PLEASE WON’T SOMEONE TALK TO ME ABOUT OATH PIZZA’S VEGAN CHEESE~~ Stan is still vegan because why not?
> 
2018 
>   * please watch James Veitch's TEDTalk about [what happens when you reply to spam email](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_QdPW8JrYzQ) and [more adventures in replying to spam](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C4Uc-cztsJo)
>   * there are a few phase 2 clinical trials ongoing in 2018, but I don’t know if it would be appropriate to insert that in, so I didn’t pick one
>   * please look at Patisse’s [signature fruit](http://www.macaronbypatisse.com/signature-series/) and [floral Mother’s Day](https://www.instagram.com/p/BipMq5iHvIi/?utm_source=ig_web_button_share_sheet/) macarons
> 



End file.
